this blog is pure for silly rp's in the ghost community, to learn abt the person behind the ghoul go to @im-notbean this is our main account were we write stories!
out of character will be written with āwordsssā ļø
Picrew of spitfire and his brother- Ram
Character sheet, underneath the read more is what it used to be lol
About the Ghoul
was accidentally summoned by Terzo in the beginning of his era/End of Seccondo's
was kept around because he was a multi ghoul and those are pretty hard to summon
pretty quiet unless you make an effort to talk to him, chatterbox at heart just a little introverted
has attempted to bite a sister of sin's arm off after she tried to touch one of his four horns, it's a genetic thing he's not supposed to have that many
was one of the three ghouls that sedated the first three papa's
he worked very closely with sister imperator but is now working under copia/the new frator
cant spell for shit
he's pretty much isolated from the other ghouls, not many remember or know who he is
sister imperator kept it that way
very vulnerable to manipulation and guilt tripping
scared of dogs they remind him of someone
isnt particularly liked by the brothers and sisters of sin
mostly quintessence but has water and fire aspects
he has undiagnosed C-PTSD, Depression, and Schizophrenia
What we Look like
Around 6'1 glamoured but 6'4 unglamoured
Light brown hair that fades into a light purple
Grey eyes
A large scar on the right side of his face
Male Ghoul uniform with the cape because he refused to give it back
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Spitfire was, once again, in the infirmary. He sat on one of the many medical beds, legs tucked towards his chest with his head resting on his knee caps. His hair dripped with water and his clothes were soaked, he'd been at the bottom of one of the many small lakes surounding the ministry when someone had forcibly dragged him to the surface. Interupting not only his nap, but had forced his gils to close while he was still partially in the water. So he swallowed a shit ton of water, which ment infirmary time. He could've handled this on his own. He should handel this on his own, yet something made him stay. The privacy curtain opened and an unfamiliar ghoul stepped into the room.
( @askspitfireghoul HIIII ik we havent talked but i saw ur pfp from one of my moots so here i am Ė̶Ķā”ĖĢ¶Ķ )
[Holding a clipboard and wearing a long, dirty white lab coat, the ghoul slipped into the closed of area with a smile. Water ghoul, no doubt. He didnāt waste anytime speaking. After all, he quite enjoyed his job. Why not do it enthusiastically?]
āHey there! Iām Ryder, or Loch, Iāll be your doctor of sorts for today! I heard a little bit of the situation from the receptionist, but would you mind giving me a retelling directly? Just so Iām not missing anythingā
[Ryder shifted himself to be just at the side of the cot, his tail swaying lightly behind him. His eyes never left the other ghoul, waiting for his answer]
Spitfire glanced over at Loch, after a quick once over he turned his attention to the bland wall in front of him. Spitfire picked at his skin before shoving his hands into one another, balling them up around one another.
"I was napping in the water when someone pulled me out and I swallowed a bunch of water. Just check my gills so I can go back to my nap."
Spitfire's tail flicked up, almost smacking Loch in the face. A cold whiff of Quintessence caught Loch off guard since he previously assumed that Spitfire was a water ghoul, which wasn't technically wrong but not right either.
The beautiful birthday of skeleta... The best album released,, truly..... An album of love, lust, and sad acceptance. Many tears were shed on this day.
Considering the fact that you are still locked outside, would your tears freeze due to the lack of warmth? However Skeleta is a true masterpiece worth more than one can provide.
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Sometimes I like to sink to the bottom of some of the lakes around the ministry, I don't know why. The only reason I would even get into the water was for... nevermind it doesn't mater.
Perhaps maybe I should stop doing that... it's probably causing me to see things, and hear things as well. Although... I do feel more at ease when submerged and the voices tend to leave for awhile... I guess I'll continue then.
Recently I've been going outside my room more often, still nobody has told me how long I had locked myself up in my room and it's starting to piss me off. Also, my hair is longer than I'd like... it's scratching the back of my neck. I've tried putting it up into a ponytail but I can't do it on my own. I also tried braiding it but I couldn't figure out how to move the hair around to form the braid...
Spitfire had grown familiar with the clicking sounds of the shoes that the clergy wore against the tiled floors. But this time, as the sound grew closer and closer to his current place of comfort, the pattern was off. There was an unfamiliar speed, an unfamiliar weight to the way they moved.
They paused right outside of the door, simply standing there for a moment before finally, two sharp knocks.
"Spitfire," Miasma's voice, a ghoul he hadn't seen in months yet knew all too well, called, "let's chat, old friend."
@ask-miasma-ghoul
Spitfire pulled the blankets over his head, heād been muttering to himself for god knows how long. Each breath felt harder than the last, after a few days of Glowstick ignoring him, heād sent himself into a panic and locked himself into his room. Heād built a wall of blankets and pillows around himself, forming a mock nest of sorts. Spitfire had just woken up from a nightmare, about the day he had killed his own brother. His brain didnāt register Miasmaās voice, just the two sharp knocks on the wooden door.
Spitfire pulled his head out of the blankets, wiping away the tears that had been running down his face, he pulled a well worn blanket from out of the pile and wrapped it around himself then walked towards the door. He opened it just enough to see Miasma, his eyes widening in shock. Hadnāt Miasma been in Texas? With that priest dude? Jim de-something, right? How long had heād been holed up in his room⦠it couldnāt have been that long right?
āM-Miasma..? I thought⦠I thought you were in Texas- how are you here?!ā
Miasma was hardly anything like Spitfire remembered, except for that expressionless stare he always offered as he searched his brain for the appropriate emotional display. His hair was cut to his shoulders, silky and shiny with proper care. The scars on his face had clearly been given some proper healing treatments, thin, barely perceptible line of potent quintessence pulsing through them as it worked to brighten the damaged skin. He wore a gabardine military-esque uniform that screamed upper clergy, chains draped across the buttons and to the epaulet on his right shoulder.
A subtle grimace of disgust twitched across his face as he took in the ever-rotten appearance of Spitfire, before quickly masking it with a flashy smile.
"Perhaps if you would crawl out of your tomb, you would know." He said with a hearty chuckle. He sighed, his eyes flicking up and down Spitfire once more.
"Come!" he exclaimed, gripping Spitfire's shoulder to direct him out of the room. "I wish to reconnect with you. We are old partners, yes? I hate to see you rot. Do you know what the sun is, you pale son of a bitch?"
Spitfire made note of the sudden change of Miasmaās appearance, he shrunk in on himself. Logically speaking Miasma was nothing like Sister Imperator, yet now Spitfire couldnāt help but see Miasma as her. He let himself be pulled out of his room, making sure that his blanket was wrapped tightly around himself. Spitfire held his head down low as the two walked, neither speaking.
āI know what the sun is! I- I just havenāt been outside recentlyā¦ā
Spitfireās tail curled around his wrist, his eyes flickering towards Miasma. āDo⦠you know what day it is⦠I forgot.ā
An obvious lie, whether Miasma would choose to expose it or not would be up to the other Ghoul. Spitfire could feel the light blood thirst from Miasma, and despite everything in Spitfireās body screaming to run away⦠he didnāt.
āAlso, you never answered my question⦠why are you back at the ministry..?ā
"Today is Monday." Miasma said with a sigh, jerking Spitfire in the direction of the backdoors. "Ah, did you know that the snowfall is over for the season? Just in time for the impending spring! There is much to do."
Miasma pushed Spitfire through the doors, the brightness of the sun hitting the conditioned ghoul in the face like a nuclear bomb. He narrowed his eyes as Spitfire insisted on his questions, urging the ghoul forward towards the gardening shed.
"Settling for less is necessary sometimes." Miasma answered simply in subtle deflection. "And I believe that you'll settle quite well in the gardening scene."
He swung the shed door open, items falling out of place and clattering to the ground just from the force. He crossed his arms, shaking his head.
"Someone's gotta organize this for the Earth ghouls. Don't you think?"
Spitfire hissed at the bright light, his eyes narrowing within the light. He was getting irritated, Miasma could deflect his questions all he wanted but Spitfire was nothing if not persistent. The shed door slammed against the wall and startled Spitfire, causing him to jump and let out a small squeak of surprise. He looked at the shed, then to Miasma, and back to the shed.
āIām not the gardening type⦠Iāll kill every plant I try to grow. And arenāt there ghouls who are assigned to organize the gardening shed? Iām pretty sure Iām not responsible for thatā¦ā
The tools that had clattered around the entrance of the shed were quickly picked up but Spitfire and place on a small work bench. Spitfire looked back at Miasma and tilted his head towards the side, the more Spitfire looked at Miasma the more he noticed the similarities between the ghoul and Sister Imperator.
āYāknow Miasma⦠youāre starting to remind me of Sister Imperator. Like your mannerisms and uniform⦠itās kinda ironic, yeah?ā
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I think we should get rid of mirrors. We all donāt wanna see ourselves anyway plus cleaning them is a hassle. And no, Iām not saying this because I had to clean the glass work throughout the ministry today. Itās just my 13th reason why yāknow?
Spitfire had grown familiar with the clicking sounds of the shoes that the clergy wore against the tiled floors. But this time, as the sound grew closer and closer to his current place of comfort, the pattern was off. There was an unfamiliar speed, an unfamiliar weight to the way they moved.
They paused right outside of the door, simply standing there for a moment before finally, two sharp knocks.
"Spitfire," Miasma's voice, a ghoul he hadn't seen in months yet knew all too well, called, "let's chat, old friend."
@ask-miasma-ghoul
Spitfire pulled the blankets over his head, heād been muttering to himself for god knows how long. Each breath felt harder than the last, after a few days of Glowstick ignoring him, heād sent himself into a panic and locked himself into his room. Heād built a wall of blankets and pillows around himself, forming a mock nest of sorts. Spitfire had just woken up from a nightmare, about the day he had killed his own brother. His brain didnāt register Miasmaās voice, just the two sharp knocks on the wooden door.
Spitfire pulled his head out of the blankets, wiping away the tears that had been running down his face, he pulled a well worn blanket from out of the pile and wrapped it around himself then walked towards the door. He opened it just enough to see Miasma, his eyes widening in shock. Hadnāt Miasma been in Texas? With that priest dude? Jim de-something, right? How long had heād been holed up in his room⦠it couldnāt have been that long right?
āM-Miasma..? I thought⦠I thought you were in Texas- how are you here?!ā
Miasma was hardly anything like Spitfire remembered, except for that expressionless stare he always offered as he searched his brain for the appropriate emotional display. His hair was cut to his shoulders, silky and shiny with proper care. The scars on his face had clearly been given some proper healing treatments, thin, barely perceptible line of potent quintessence pulsing through them as it worked to brighten the damaged skin. He wore a gabardine military-esque uniform that screamed upper clergy, chains draped across the buttons and to the epaulet on his right shoulder.
A subtle grimace of disgust twitched across his face as he took in the ever-rotten appearance of Spitfire, before quickly masking it with a flashy smile.
"Perhaps if you would crawl out of your tomb, you would know." He said with a hearty chuckle. He sighed, his eyes flicking up and down Spitfire once more.
"Come!" he exclaimed, gripping Spitfire's shoulder to direct him out of the room. "I wish to reconnect with you. We are old partners, yes? I hate to see you rot. Do you know what the sun is, you pale son of a bitch?"
Spitfire made note of the sudden change of Miasmaās appearance, he shrunk in on himself. Logically speaking Miasma was nothing like Sister Imperator, yet now Spitfire couldnāt help but see Miasma as her. He let himself be pulled out of his room, making sure that his blanket was wrapped tightly around himself. Spitfire held his head down low as the two walked, neither speaking.
āI know what the sun is! I- I just havenāt been outside recentlyā¦ā
Spitfireās tail curled around his wrist, his eyes flickering towards Miasma. āDo⦠you know what day it is⦠I forgot.ā
An obvious lie, whether Miasma would choose to expose it or not would be up to the other Ghoul. Spitfire could feel the light blood thirst from Miasma, and despite everything in Spitfireās body screaming to run away⦠he didnāt.
āAlso, you never answered my question⦠why are you back at the ministry..?ā
"Today is Monday." Miasma said with a sigh, jerking Spitfire in the direction of the backdoors. "Ah, did you know that the snowfall is over for the season? Just in time for the impending spring! There is much to do."
Miasma pushed Spitfire through the doors, the brightness of the sun hitting the conditioned ghoul in the face like a nuclear bomb. He narrowed his eyes as Spitfire insisted on his questions, urging the ghoul forward towards the gardening shed.
"Settling for less is necessary sometimes." Miasma answered simply in subtle deflection. "And I believe that you'll settle quite well in the gardening scene."
He swung the shed door open, items falling out of place and clattering to the ground just from the force. He crossed his arms, shaking his head.
"Someone's gotta organize this for the Earth ghouls. Don't you think?"
Spitfire hissed at the bright light, his eyes narrowing within the light. He was getting irritated, Miasma could deflect his questions all he wanted but Spitfire was nothing if not persistent. The shed door slammed against the wall and startled Spitfire, causing him to jump and let out a small squeak of surprise. He looked at the shed, then to Miasma, and back to the shed.
āIām not the gardening type⦠Iāll kill every plant I try to grow. And arenāt there ghouls who are assigned to organize the gardening shed? Iām pretty sure Iām not responsible for thatā¦ā
The tools that had clattered around the entrance of the shed were quickly picked up but Spitfire and place on a small work bench. Spitfire looked back at Miasma and tilted his head towards the side, the more Spitfire looked at Miasma the more he noticed the similarities between the ghoul and Sister Imperator.
āYāknow Miasma⦠youāre starting to remind me of Sister Imperator. Like your mannerisms and uniform⦠itās kinda ironic, yeah?ā
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming